


I. Do. Not. Love. Kim. Junmyeon. (pause for dramatic effect)

by London9Calling



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Universe, Jongdae kisses a deer but its not Luhan, M/M, Mirror Sex, Pining, exo ladder, mentions of loss of virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 14:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19200844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London9Calling/pseuds/London9Calling
Summary: Oh Sehun has spent nearly a decade infatuated with Junmyeon. Finally, he’s had enough–– except maybe he hasn’t.





	I. Do. Not. Love. Kim. Junmyeon. (pause for dramatic effect)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sleepy_orange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepy_orange/gifts).



> [Written for Sleepy_Orange](https://twitter.com/London9Calling/status/1139143880409063424). Enjoy^^~

Oh Sehun was fifteen years old when he fell in love for the first time; he was twenty-five years old when he fell out of it–– or at least that is what he liked to tell himself when he looked in the mirror. 

“I don’t love Kim Junmyeon,” Sehun said proudly, staring into the oval gold-rimmed mirror hung too high up on the wall. He almost had to tiptoe to see into it, which was pointedly ridiculous since he had picked it out and the design team knew how tall he was. He often wondered if it was some sort of practical joke played on him because of how often he changed his mind about his dishes or the position of the sofa. 

“I Do Not Love Kim Junmyeon,” he repeated, smiling for effect. 

“It’s too early, and I’m too tired to find the  _ You’re lying  _ video so just pretend I played it, ‘kay?” Park Chanyeol stood in the doorway to the living room, leaning against the wall. His hair was sticking up five different ways, and his purple sweatshirt had deep indentations that matched the cushions of Sehun’s sofa. He’d fallen asleep ten minutes after arriving at Sehun’s apartment, and Sehun had let him be.

“Fuck off,” Sehun drawled, glaring down the hallway at his teammate. He should rightfully be mortified, and probably would have been if almost anyone else had caught his three-in-the-morning affirmations in the mirror. But this was Chanyeol, they’d known each other for ten years, there wasn’t much hidden between them, including Sehun’s romantic issues. 

Chanyeol responded with a yawn, stifling it with the back of his hand. “Do you have anything to eat? I’m hungry.”

“No,” Sehun answered with a terse look. “I was about to leave. I have filming. When’s Manager Hyung picking you up?”

Chanyeol shrugged. “Don’t know. Mind if I steal your bed since you’re done using it? There aren’t any pictures of Junmyeon taped above it, right?”

Sehun gritted his teeth. He should have known better than to let Park Chanyeol sleep over, but he had fallen for the “ _ but your apartment is closer to the airport, and that means I can sleep in later. Come on, we’ve been working nonstop for days Sehun you know how tiring that is _ ” spiel from his hyung.  It was accurate they had all been on a grueling schedule, and Sehun could more than sympathize with the desire to get just an extra hour of rest if possible. Falling asleep in salon chairs and in waiting rooms was less than rejuvenating.

“Whatever. Just don’t burn my place down. And lock the door.” Sehun turned, rolling his eyes where Chanyeol couldn’t see. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Mmmkay. I’ll take care of your boyfriend while you're gone.”

Sehun huffed, stalking towards the front door. Stupid Chanyeol. “He’s not my-”

“You’re lying,” Chanyeol sing-songed, padding off towards Sehun’s bedroom. “Stoooop lying.”

  
  


Sehun considered himself lucky, all things considered. Of course, sometimes his life wasn’t easy, but regardless he was beyond fortunate to have all that he did. He had been scouted by SM Entertainment at the age of thirteen. He failed his first audition but passed his second two years later. He entered the company as a bright-eyed second-year middle schooler, fifteen years old with only a rudimentary understanding of dance, a poor grasp of singing, and an ingrained enthusiasm and social nature he’d carried with him his entire life. His attitude couldn’t be beat, even if his skills had yet to be fine tuned.

The training wasn’t easy. It was competitive, people could be mean. The teachers could be scathing with their criticisms. Combined with regular school, being a trainee meant he had very little free time – and that was the bare minimum because he wasn’t that dedicated of a student to begin with. He saw kids starve themselves to fit weight goals, and others turn on each other as they were faced with being let go if they didn’t meet a set benchmark. Stress was high as kids lost their social lives, dedicating themselves to succeed at any cost. It was an ugly world, one that Sehun wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be a part of. 

He didn’t take it seriously until the news trickled down the ranks of the trainees that SM would debut a new boy group sooner rather than later. Sehun was sixteen before he started staying late and coming early, seeing the practice room more than he saw the classroom most days. He found his niche with dance, which he clung to, practicing until his feet hurt and his thighs were throbbing. 

But he avoided serious injury and he improved until finally, he was chosen as one of twelve guys to debut in the company’s new boy group, Exo. He would be the youngest, the face, and one of the lead dancers. He debuted at the age of eighteen, a few months before he graduated from high school, and from there, the sky was the limit. Exo broke physical sales records, selling one million albums the year after they debuted. They won award after award, their fanbase growing even while the team dwindled in size, losing three members before they settled into their current nine. 

The one constant from training, from Sehun’s first day in SM, to present, was Kim Junmyeon. 

Junmyeon was the first person Sehun met at the company and Sehun, as much as he usually loathed sappy things, would swear it was love at first sight.

Okay, so fine, maybe not  _ love at first sight _ exactly, but it was _ something _ . Something that made Sehun’s cheeks feel oddly warm when eighteen-year-old Kim Junmyeon walked up to him, sizing him up in what Sehun assumed was supposed to be an intimidating stance. It wasn’t. Kim Junmyeon wasn’t intimidating in the least. What he was, was smoking hot, an attraction that Sehun felt immediately, one that he had never been able to shake. 

Ten years had passed since that day and a lot had changed. A lot had also stayed the same –– like the way Kim Junmyeon still made Sehun’s cheeks burn, albeit it happened less frequently as they got older. 

It took Sehun a full ten years to finally come to terms with how he felt about his groupmate, his hyung, and his (onetime) roommate. He was in sickening, sappy, sweet love with Kim Junmyeon. 

He knew it. Chanyeol knew it. Jongin probably knew it, but he never said as much. Baekhyun knew it, but he stayed relatively quiet for once, even though Sehun suspected he’d probably told Yixing and Jongdae because he never kept anything from them. Which meant, pretty much everyone knew it except for Junmyeon, which was a good thing since as of twelve months ago (give or take a few months) Junmyeon was no longer someone Sehun was in love with. 

Sehun declared 2018 the year he finally got over Kim Junmyeon once and for all. 

“I’m do not love Kim Junmyeon,” Sehun repeated, clicking the button to unlock the doors of his Mercedes. “I do not love Kim Junmyeon.”

  
  
  


_ 4: 17 pm _

_ I miss you _

Sehun stared down at the message, a lump forming in his throat. He swallowed thickly, his lips quirking into a small smile when the next message buzzed through. 

_ 4:18 pm _

_ ( _ _ ღ _ _ ˘ _ _ ⌣ _ _ ˘ _ _ ღ _ _ )  _

  
Kim Junmyeon sent him text messages like this more than Sehun would have liked. At least more than a part of him would have liked. A good chunk of him enjoyed it, his heart thudding in his chest, that strange-little-stirry feeling in his stomach starting whenever he saw Junmyeon’s name pop up on his phone, inevitably accompanied by a cute but horribly outdated emoji. 

“Your girlfriend?” a voice asked. 

Sehun looked up from his phone, fixing his expression to one of passivity. “Huh?”

He really needed to fix his reactions because he did not love Kim Junmyeon. Anymore.

Sehun turned to see Lee Seung Gi standing to his left. They were both milling about, waiting for the next segment to start filming. 

Seung Gi nodded towards Sehun’s phone. “You look way too happy for it to be your manager. So it must be your girlfriend, right?”

“No! Absolutely not,” Sehun blurted out, perhaps a little too fast. Seung Gi opened his mouth like he was going to respond, maybe ask another question, but thought better of it. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to offend,” Seung Gi said, flashing a mischievous smile. “You know, it’s alright if you’re dating someone. I know companies like yours like to give lectures about it and all that, but it’s all bark, no bite. Trust me, I know from experience.”

Before they could continue the conversation, the assistant director was yelling for them to hurry, filming was about to begin. 

Sehun slipped his phone in his jacket pocket, missing the next message.

_ 4:20 pm _

_ Sehunnie I really really miss you. _

  
  


It was late in the evening when Sehun finished up filming for  _ Busted _ . He was tired, yawning widely as he dragged his t-shirt over his head, pulling it down and grabbing for his jacket. He wasn’t done with work, wouldn’t be for a while. Now it was time to head to the airport and catch a flight to Taiwan where he would be reunited with the rest of his team members. A camera and small crew would follow him the entire way, filming for Exo’s new reality show.

“Do I get to play any games?” Sehun asked the variety show’s writer, a petite woman in a puffy black jacket. 

“Yes, you can play against the producer,” she answered. “Your flight is in an hour, we should hurry.”

Sehun was used to hurrying. He nodded, stuffed his hands in his jean pockets, and trudged towards the waiting van.

  
  


Sehun had tried to pinpoint the exact attributes, the exact behavior, that made him like Kim Junmyeon so damn much. It was part of his plan to be rid of his feelings. If he knew the triggers, certainly it would be easier to avoid them, right?

Sehun stared out the window of the plane, at the inky darkness. The flight to Taiwan wasn’t long, he still should have used it as a chance to sleep –– not to have his mind wander to Junmyeon, gut-twisting into a knot as he begrudgingly admitted to himself he was no further in his quest to not-love Junmyeon than he had been ten years before. 

_ It’s not healthy _ , Sehun thought to himself.  _ It’s not good to love someone who will never love me back, at least never love me in the same way I love him _ . Sehun sighed and slumped back in his seat. Next to him, his manager was snoring, a panda eye mask covering half his face. Most of the plane was asleep, the mixed chorus of snores and the lack of overhead lighting indicated as much. 

Sehun rested his head against the wall of the plane, his forehead pressing against the plastic ridge of the window. It was cold and dark, and somehow, it was just what he needed. 

He loved Kim Junmyeon because he was kind. Because despite his sometimes-narcissistic front, he was as selfless a person as Sehun had ever met. He cared, he cared about his teammates  _ a lot _ . He was responsible, he taught Sehun the value of being accountable for his actions. He was smart, burying his nose in a book before he traveled somewhere, doing his research diligently no matter how tired he was. He put up with Sehun, Jongin, Chanyeol, and Baekhyun pulling pranks, and more than that, he quickly forgave them. He was a good friend, a great guy. But all of that was only the beginning of Sehun’s long list of why-I-love-Kim-Junmyeon-101. There was so, so much more that it made his head hurt to even try to quantify it. 

Sehun didn’t even want to think about Junmyeon’s physical attributes, because that would be an exercise in pain he wasn’t willing to entertain.

Nor did he want to dwell on the physical affection Junmyeon seemed to shower on him any time they were within five feet of each other (something their teammates had pointed out more than once). Kim Junmyeon was perpetually touchy, his hand finding Sehun’s, his arm snaking around Sehun’s waist, his head resting on Sehun’s shoulder without so much as a second thought. 

None of it helped. 

None of it made the situation any easier for him. 

“I’m not in love with Kim Junmyeon,” Sehun whispered to himself. 

A soft snicker sounded beside him. Sehun turned to see his manager still sleeping, but he could have sworn he heard the older man snort or laugh a few seconds before. 

“I’m not,” Sehun hissed, protesting just in case his manager had overheard him. “I’m not in love with Kim Junmyeon.”

  
  
  


Sehun cried the first time the dance trainer told him he wouldn’t make it. He burst into tears in a room full of other trainees, sucking in a deep gulp of air that made him hiccup and sniffle. He was fifteen years old with a shaggy haircut and clothes one size too big draped over his lanky frame. It was embarrassing, the crying, the failure, all of it. Even nine years later, the memory still stung. 

“Best if you give up now,” the trainer had said firmly.

Sehun stepped back into the line of trainees, trying his best to stop the flow of tears that ran down his cheeks. He bit his bottom lip, almost broke the skin, hoping the pain would distract him from crying. 

When he looked to his left, he saw Kim Junmyeon standing there, back straight, sporting his new haircut. He looked cool, he looked at ease. And more importantly, he smiled at Sehun with his eyes, and with his lips. “It will be okay,” he mouthed, and Sehun couldn’t help but believe him. 

After practice, Junmyeon made a point to hang back as the other trainees filed out, throwing his arm over Sehun’s shoulder as he passed. 

“You’ll do fine,” Junmyeon said. “You just need to practice more.”

Sehun looked at the ground as they walked down the hall by the practice rooms, hyper-aware of the arm on his shoulder, pulling him closer. “You think so?”

“Sehunnie, I know so,” Junmyeon answered. “You’re good, really good. Better than me when you put your mind to it. You just have trouble focusing, like Chanyeol.”

Sehun could agree that he was probably more like Park Chanyeol than not. They had the same sense of humor and often ended up goofing off as much as they practiced. 

“How do you do it?” Sehun asked, looking up at Junmyeon. The eighteen-year-old was a good five inches taller than Sehun, who much to his chagrin had yet to reach his growth spurt. “How do you stay focused?”

“I stay away from distractions,” Junmyeon answered like it was the simplest thing in the world. He ruffled Sehun’s messy hair. “Now come on, let’s go get something to eat. I’ll walk you to the station.”

It wouldn’t be the last time Sehun would hear those words from Junmyeon’s lips. 

_ I stay away from distractions.  _

Fifteen-year-old Sehun wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but he decided it was good advice.

  
  
  


Sehun had never been punched in the gut. He had never been in a physical altercation; as a trainee it would have ended his future, the same and worse could be true if it was after he had debuted. He had no real frame of reference, but he imagined it might feel a lot like the breathless, slightly painful tightening he experienced when he met Junmyeon’s eyes.  _ Distracting in all the wrong ways.  _

He had just arrived at the filming location, a circuit car course with bright lights and a noisy main building. The rest of the team was gathered at a smattering of tables, a makeshift awards podium sat to one side. A bevy of cameramen, writers, and production crew faced them, capturing their interactions. 

Sehun had his mic put on by a junior production assistant and then was directed towards the others.  His eyes naturally went to Junmyeon, which annoyed him to no end. Junmyeon was there, looking tired, dark circles under his eyes barely concealed with makeup. Tired or not, his smile when he spotted Sehun was blinding.  _ A punch to the gut.  _

The rest of the team spotted Sehun around the same time and promptly stood to chant his name in a sarcastic, albeit good-natured, welcoming ceremony. Sehun broke eye contact with Junmyeon and launched a full body roll, earning laughter from his hyungs. 

“Jongdae Hyung needs to do the Rambo,” Sehun said, smoothing his hand down his shirt and looking away. Kim Junmyeon was still watching him, no doubt. 

The set died down, everyone ushered back to their seats so the filming could continue. Sehun was confident that a good chunk would be edited out, especially when Baekhyun launched into an inside joke that ate up at least a minute of film. 

Sehun laughed, letting his shoulders go lax. He allowed his mind to focus on the feeling of seeing his teammates, not obsess over Kim Junmyeon. 

_ Or not.  _

“Were you lonely?”

“Were you going crazy?”

Trust Baekhyun and Chanyeol to ask questions that sounded innocent enough until Sehun caught the flash of mischief in their eyes. He knew what they were asking, Chanyeol blatantly glancing at Junmyeon. 

_ Were you lonely without your boyfriend?  _

_ Were you going crazy without him? _

Sehun dared a peek at Junmyeon. Why did he look so exhausted? 

“What games did you play?” Sehun asked, changing the subject. 

  
  
  


The drive from the circuit car facilities to their accommodations took two hours. For Sehun, it would have been a good time to sleep. He hadn’t slept for almost twenty-four hours, with the filming in Korea and the trip to Taiwan and he was feeling it. Perhaps predictably, he stayed awake, ending up squashed into a seat in a bus, with the man he-totally-didn’t-love sitting beside him.

“How was filming?” Junmyeon asked, the last word coming out slurred as he yawned. 

“Okay. How about you?”  _ Why do you send me text messages like that hyung? How can you miss me so much you have to say it a dozen times?  Why do you make it harder for me? Why? Why? _

Junmyeon shifted in his seat. He sighed, puffing his cheeks out. “I’m tired, Sehunnie.”

“Go to sleep, hyung,” Sehun said quietly. They had all been run ragged of late, practicing for their comeback alongside solo obligations. 

Junmyeon nodded. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back onto the cheap fabric of the bus seat. A second later he was smiling, chuckling. 

“What?” Sehun asked. 

“I fell asleep at the circuit court track. I was late starting the race.” Junmyeon laughed. 

“Somehow, I believe it. Now sleep, hyung.” Sehun didn’t open the invitation, but he didn’t balk when Junmyeon scooted closer, a second later laying his head on Sehun’s shoulder. 

Sehun swallowed thickly, trying very hard not to get all mushy with the-man-he-didn’t-love resting on his shoulder, their arms pressed together. 

When, a few seconds later, he looked to his left, Sehun found Kyungsoo looking at them, an unreadable expression on his face.  Sehun looked away, not wanting to dwell on it. He settled into his seat, relishing in having Junmyeon next to him, no matter how much it hurt him in the long run. 

  
  
  


“You two are ridiculous.” The words were spoken in Kyungsoo’s trademark tone, deep, slow, and purposeful. He was someone who didn’t talk without giving it thought first and judging by his expression, he had given it a lot of thought. He looked annoyed, or no, maybe frustrated?

Sehun blinked at his hyung. “What do you mean?”

They were in the living room of their rented villa, laying around on the white bedding that had been scattered on the floor. They had a break in filming, one that had seen Sehun trudge eagerly downstairs because he hated being alone. He was supposed to sleep alone, which had him gritting his teeth and trying to calculate how to get out of it. 

“Why don’t you just tell Junmyeon? Why doesn’t he tell you?” Kyungsoo tilted his head slightly to the side. “It’s so stupid to watch. It’s gotten a thousand times worse to be around. Jongin was right.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sehun scoffed, scooting over to play with small boxing game sitting on a nearby table. He tightened his jaw, thankful that the cameras and mics were off. What did Jongin know? Pfft. 

“Aren’t you in love with Junmyeon Hyung?” Kyungsoo asked, phrasing it more as a statement than a question. 

Sehun ignored him. 

“Filming in three,” a production crew member yelled, effectively stopping Sehun from responding –– assuming the thought would ever cross his mind. He did manage to shoot a dirty look at Kyungsoo, however, annoyed at what he was implying.

  
  


_ I do not love Kim Junmyeon. _

_ I do not love Kim Junmyeon, I only want him to sleep by me because I hate sleeping in new places alone. Not because I want to sleep next to him. Not because I want to wake up with him wrapped around me and  _ –– I DO NOT LOVE KIM JUNMYEON. 

“Suho Hyung, let’s play rock, paper, scissors and whoever wins can sleep by me.” Sehun was lying through his teeth, trying to play it cool. 

“No. Oh Sehun sleeps alone,” Kyungsoo said firmly, ignoring the evil eye Sehun gave him. 

Junmyeon padded across the room, dressed in his striped green shirt, his brown hair messy because he had run his hand through it too many times (Sehun could tell, he could always tell). 

“Are you really afraid to sleep alone?” Junmyeon asked gently, grabbing for Sehun’s hand. 

“Of course I am! I’m serious!” Sehun blurted out, anger rising when he saw the tiniest hint of a smirk playing on Kyungsoo’s face. “You think I’m doing this just to be funny?!”

“Grant me a wish, and I’ll sleep by you,” Junmyeon said in an even tone, hand squeezing Sehun’s.  

Sehun couldn’t agree fast enough. He stood, hand still held by Junmyeon. He would grant Junmyeon a wish; he’d do anything for the man. Not because he loved him, but because he didn’t want to sleep alone in a new place. Yeah, that was it.  

“Nice lie,” Kyungsoo muttered as they walked past, low enough for only Sehun to hear. 

  
  


Junmyeon slipped under the white bed covers, a sigh of satisfaction leaving him since he had successfully escaped sleeping on one of the mats in the crowded living room. Sehun was lying on his back, phone in hand. He glanced at Junmyeon, doing his best not to hyperfixate on the man lying ten inches away from him. 

Junmyeon settled against the mound of pillows and grabbed his phone from where he’d tossed it on the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, Sehun could see Junmyeon’s feet wiggling under the covers.

Sehun flashed back to when they were roommates, and this scene was a daily occurrence. Eat together. Shower. Snuggle up on Sehun’s bed because Junmyeon’s housed a pile of clothing neither of them would go through no matter how much their manager nagged them. Read on their phones, turn the lights off, talk for an hour about everything and nothing, somehow end up tangled together, waking up a mess of legs and arms, Sehun unbearably warm from being pressed against Junmyeon all night. It had been their reality for years until Sehun took the opportunity to ask to sleep alone. A room had opened in their dorm when one of the managers married and moved out. 

Junmyeon had looked hurt, whined in that way that only he could. Sehun had put his foot down, and Junmyeon ended up in the bedroom next to the room they once shared. They still managed to end up on Sehun’s bed most nights, however, and almost always shared a hotel room when they were on tour. But then they had moved out, spending time away from the dorms when they weren’t promoting or practicing. It had been weeks since they had last fallen into bed together. Sometimes Sehun thought it was a curse, other times a blessing.

Suddenly the memories flooded back, aching in Sehun’s chest. It was a strange feeling, like a burst of energy that left him listless, unable to find an outlet. A rawness pervaded the moment, a sense of being simultaneously vulnerable and guilty, neither making Sehun particularly comfortable or happy. 

It was natural, the way Junmyeon moved over, eyes still glued to his phone. Sehun wondered if Junmyeon even realized he’d done it or if his body moved out of pure instinct, an action he had committed to physical memory after doing it every night for years.  

Sehun swallowed thickly. Junmyeon might be operating on memory, on instinct, but Sehun was focused on every little detail, every second that ticked by with the two of them in bed. Sehun wanted more than he could reasonably have, at that moment or at any moment to follow. He had wasted his past wanting more, but he didn’t want to waste his future –– unfortunately his mental affirmations had a habit of being pushed to the side the moment Kim Junmyeon was nearby. 

_ I don’t love Kim Junmyeon.  _

“Sehunnie, what are you thinking about?” Junmyeon asked quietly. He set his phone to the side and turned over, scooting even closer to Sehun. Junmyeon’s leg ended up draped over Sehun’s thigh, sending Sehun’s mind into a panic.

“I-”  _ I’m thinking about how close you are. How I’ve missed you. How I want to kiss you _ .  _ How I shouldn’t think any of those things but I can’t help it. _ “I’m tired,” Sehun choked out. 

“Hmm,” Junmyeon hummed his response. Another inch disappeared until he was so close Sehun could turn and share a breath with him. But no, Sehun wouldn’t. He would stay lying on his back, trying very hard to maintain his composure and the fragile grip he had on his sanity. 

“I missed sleeping next to you,” Junmyeon said softly, eyes gently closing. “You should never have kicked me out of our room.”

_ Our room.  _

_ Ours. _

“You’re too messy,” Sehun said quickly. “It’s gross.” He found the willpower to turn over, his back facing Junmyeon. It was better if he couldn’t see him, couldn’t be drawn in by the pout Junmyeon liked to show, or his smile, or the way his cheeks would puff out or––

“You’re messy too,” Junmyeon muttered, voice heavy with fatigue. 

Silence. Sehun listened to Junmyeon’s breathing. When he felt Junmyeon’s arms wrap around his middle, making him the little spoon, he didn’t move away. There was nowhere left to scoot without falling on the floor, or so he told himself. 

“I love you, Sehun,” Junmyeon said, drifting off to sleep a few seconds later, the soft sound of snoring indicating to Sehun he was out. 

“I don’t love you,” Sehun said in a whisper, suddenly wide awake. 

  
  


“How was your night?” Baekhyun asked with a cheeky grin. He was sitting out in a wicker chair on the patio of their villa, clad in his pajamas, a brutal wind wiping his hair every which way. A canopy had been set up over the small seating area, right next to the pool, a tray of breakfast food was set out for them to munch on. 

“It was fine, hyung,” Sehun lied. It wasn’t fine. He had barely slept an hour with Junmyeon glued to his back, hugging him tightly. 

“Did you finally get some?” Baekhyun asked.

“Hyung!” Sehun shot back, ready to pick him up and toss him in the pool. Thankfully they weren’t being filmed yet, but still. Baekhyun really should not be talking about his not-love-for-Junmyeon so loudly, where any member of the production staff or even another member could hear. 

Baekhyun giggled. “You know, Jongdae started taking bets on if this will finally be the time for you two to admit it. He has slots up to the hour. I’m betting a late-night confession, so I put money on one AM to six AM, just in case you guys have more stamina than I would have guessed.”

Sehun stared at Baekhyun in horrified silence. “I don’t love-”

“Morning.” Kim Junmyeon. He arrived with messy hair, the top of his pajama shirt buttoned one button too high, leaving it mismatched. Sehun was quick to stand up, hands flying to the button. “Hyung, you did it wrong,” he admonished, knowing full well Baekhyun was probably having a field day watching him. 

Sehun fiddled with the button, Junmyeon looking down, his fingers moving to take over for Sehun. 

Sehun took a step back and cleared his throat. “Breakfast,” he said lamely, gesturing at the tray of food and taking a seat. 

“Junmyeon Hyung, how did you sleep last night?” Baekhyun asked, feigning innocence. Sehun really wanted to kick him.

“Good. Really good,” Junmyeon answered, fingers finishing their work, his pajama shirt righted. “Better than I have in a long time.”

  
  
  


By the afternoon, Sehun was running on something akin to a caffeine high. Pure adrenaline and bad jokes kept him going since he was so sleep deprived, he couldn’t claim to be running on much else. 

They ended up at a restaurant and then a deer park, a place where Junmyeon was quick to hold Sehun’s hand, squeezing it periodically as they joked around.  

It was times like these that Sehun could almost forget how much it hurt to totally-not love Kim Junmyeon. When they bantered playfully, hanging out with the guys, they were just like any old friends. Until Sehun’s eyes would start to wander to Junmyeon’s lips, or his chest would do that ever so unhelpful tightening thing it liked to do when Junmyeon gave him his signature  _ fond  _ look. 

Moments like those were when Sehun would put some distance between them, wandering over to bullshit with Chanyeol or Jongin or bother Kyungsoo or Minseok. 

That afternoon, Sehun ended up hunting down Jongdae, finding him with his hands full of deer feed and a few stray deer (the ones Kyungsoo didn’t manage to enthrall) loitering around him. He was crouched down on eye level with the deer, methodically handing out the food.

Sehun sauntered up, folding his arms across his chest. He fixed Jongdae with his finest dirty look, waiting for Jongdae to notice him. When half a minute passed, and Jongdae didn’t acknowledge his presence, Sehun cleared his throat loudly. 

“Sehun-ah,” Jongdae said, looking over his shoulder and flashing his signature kitten grin. 

“I heard you’re taking bets,” Sehun drawled, tapping his foot on the dusty gravel ground, kicking up dirt.

Jongdae looked sheepish for all of ten seconds, then appeared to be trying not to laugh. “Who told you? Was it Baekhyun?”

Sehun opened his mouth to answer but didn’t when a particularly evil thought entered his mind. The deer Jongdae had been feeding was now ready to nose into him, wanting food. If Jongdae turned his head just so…

“Hyung, over there!” Sehun said, pointing towards the deer. 

Predictably Jongdae turned, smacking his head into the deer. The startled animal took a step back while Jongdae swore under his breath. Sehun burst out laughing, holding his stomach.

“Oh Sehun!” Jongdae hissed, throwing curses towards the team’s maknae.

“Stop taking bets,” Sehun called over his shoulder, already strolling off towards the waiting bus. 

  
  


Sehun should have known Minseok would be blunt about it. If there as anyone in their group that didn’t mince words, it was the eldest member (and Kyungsoo, who was eerily similar to Minseok in many ways when it came down to it). 

“I bet on tonight, so you two better confess, kiss, or get naked  _ naked _ or I’m out five hundred thousand won.” Minseok stared the youngest member down. 

Sehun sputtered, not expecting Minseok to say anything of the sort while they were lounging around, waiting for the evening filming to begin. He choked on his water, coughing loudly.  

“Nothing is going to happen,  _ god _ . I don’t even like him like  _ that _ ,” Sehun hissed, catching his breath. 

“Right, right.” Minseok feigned agreement, tone deeply sarcastic. “And he doesn’t like you like that either.”

“He doesn’t,” Sehun protested. He leaned across the small table. Gritting his teeth, he spat,” In case you forgot, Junmyeon is straight.”

Minseok smirked. “No, he’s not.”

“Yes, he is,” Sehun said firmly. “Have you ever seen him with a guy? No. Has he ever mentioned being attracted to a guy? No. The only person he’s dated since we debuted happened to very much not be a guy if you recall.”

Minseok laughed, fueling Sehun’s annoyance. 

“It’s not funny to joke about this stuff, Hyung,” Sehun said, venom in his words. Sehun had come out as bisexual to the team shortly after he turned twenty years old and they had all been very supportive. He knew they were sensitive to his feelings, but still. 

“I’m not joking. Remember when he had that thing with Minho?” Minseok asked. 

“What  _ thing _ ?” It was pointedly ridiculous to think Junmyeon had anything going on with Minho. They two had known each other since they were trainees and were close friends, nothing more. 

Minseok smiled. “After they reconnected when Junmyeon filmed that variety with him. It didn’t last long, but they were very much a thing for a month or so. Pretty hot and heavy. I walked in on them and regret all my life choices that ended in seeing Junmyeon’s ass being rail––“

“Stop!” Sehun held his hands up, not wanting to hear about Junmyeon’s ass being railed by anyone  that wasn’t him , much less Choi Minho. Sehun swallowed thickly, the hair rising on his arm. 

“You really didn’t know about it?” Minseok lifted an eyebrow. “Shit, I thought you knew.”

It couldn’t be, could it? Junmyeon and Choi Minho were close friends back in the day when they were both trainees. After Minho’s debut with Shinee, they drifted apart. Sehun had known they had become close again because they filmed a show together, Junmyeon started making a point to room with Minho when they were on tour with other SM groups. Sehun had taken it in stride, bunking down alongside Chanyeol instead, spending his nights playing video games and trading friendly insults.  

A mental image of Junmyeon kissing Minho flashed in Sehun’s mind, causing something akin to a headache and a stomachache all at once. 

“Fuck,” Sehun swore, slumping down in his lawn chair. “You aren’t lying to me, are you, Hyung?”

Minseok narrowed his eyes. “You think I would lie about something that could cost me five hundred thousand won?”

True. Minseok was a notorious spendthrift... but really? Sehun felt like he had been punched. Never would he have even considered the reality Minseok was peddling. 

Everything had changed. Kim Junmyeon wasn’t straight? Sehun had experienced ten years tinged with melancholy at his unrequited love life, believing Junmyeon was fundamentally unavailable. And hell, maybe he still was unreachable.  _ Maybe. _ But if he was, it wasn’t because of the very foundation Sehun had built his heartbreak upon - the falsehood that there would never be a possibility because Junmyeon didn’t swing that way. 

“You should confess,” Minseok said quietly. “He’s been complaining about how lonely he is, and he adores you, Sehun. We all know it. The way he looks at you makes me want to vomit if I'm honest. You two are so in love it’s painful to watch.”

Sehun wasn’t convinced. He was still trying to digest what he had been told, what it meant in the long run. “I don’t––“

“You’ll never know unless you say something. I’d leave it up to him to confess, but you know Junmyeon. He’s too afraid of failing to ever do something like that.”

Junmyeon picked that moment to wander out from the living room, his flip flops thwacking on the concrete. Sehun caught his eye and then quickly looked away.

“Confess,” Minseok whispered. “Tonight preferably. I have five hundred thousand won riding on it.”

Sehun summarily kicked him under the table, leading to Minseok yelping and Junmyeon giving the pair a curious glance. Sehun flashed a thumbs up and smirked.

Junmyeon raised an eyebrow but didn’t pry, wandering back inside a moment later. 

  
  
  


Oh Sehun was living in an entirely new world, and so far he wasn’t any more successful in this one where Kim Junmyeon was concerned than he had been with his old existence. 

“Sehun-ah, please. We used to cuddle like this all the time.”

Sehun stiffened. He was lying flat on his back, Junmyeon next to him. Junmyeon had his face pressed so close that if Sehun turned onto his side, their lips would meet, reminiscent of Jongdae and the deer but far more pleasing for Sehun. 

It was going on two in the morning, and the rest of the members were already in bed. Sehun had gone to bed first, rife with anxiety over when or if he could say anything to Junmyeon that night. He stared blankly at his phone for a half an hour before Junmyeon snuck in, padding towards the bed, wearing his PJs. 

Junmyeon lifted the covers and slipped in, chattering about something. Sehun wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying, his mind on a constant loop of Kim Junmyeon isn’t straight.  _ Kim Junmyeon isn’t straight. Kim Junmy- _

And then the world tested him, Junmyeon scooting over on the bed, cuddling up to Sehun, throwing his arm over Sehun’s middle. Sehun could feel Junmyeon’s heat, could feel the soft press of his arm, of the muscles that were covered by ridiculously cute pajamas that a man of his age and attractiveness should not be wearing.

What if he had confessed a few years before when Minho was still firmly stuck in the acquaintance category? No. No, he shouldn’t be thinking about it. 

Sehun turned over on his side, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

“Aish,” Sehun swore, quickly followed by a forced, “I love you.” It was the generic, friendly version, the same one said countless nights over the years when they shared a room. 

Sehun felt the mattress dip next to him, the rustle of Junmyeon sliding across the bed, back to his side. 

He could just turn over and say it. 

_ Kim Junmyeon, I  _ _ don’t _ _ I love you but not like a friend.  _

_ Kim Junmyeon, I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen.  _

_ Kim Junmyeon I really, really want to touch your ass. _

It seemed easy enough, right? A few words. A confession. 

But Junmyeon could say no.

He could laugh. 

He could––

No, Kim Junmyeon wouldn’t laugh at his feelings. He wouldn’t be so callous. Junmyeon would let him down gently, promising him nothing would change between them, that they could still be friends. He’d hold Sehun’s hand, his fingers fitting perfectly between Sehun’s. He’d smile that sweet smile and reassure Sehun as much as he needed to be reassured. 

Sehun would almost wish that he laugh instead. Being nice, being nice and likable and kind didn’t help him not be in love with Kim Junmyeon. It only made it harder. 

“Sehun-ah,” Junmyeon said quietly. 

“What, Hyung?”

“I love you,” Junmyeon said softly and  _ nope, nope _ . 

“Aish,” Sehun hissed, closing his eyes tightly.

  
  


Sehun lost his virginity when he was nineteen years old. He had already debuted as an idol. It was early 2014, and Exo was riding the high they had achieved the year prior. It was terrible, he thought later, that he couldn’t even remember the woman’s name. 

He was drunk and with friends that didn’t exactly have his best interests at heart. He was at an apartment, and there was a woman there, a girl a few years older than him. She was funny and friendly and very, very drunk. She kissed him first, but Sehun didn’t move away. They ended up in the guest bedroom, Sehun’s mind hazy with liquor. Even if she wasn’t his type, he went for it. 

Sehun arrived back at the dorm around three in the morning, the effects of the booze wearing off, leaving him with a bad headache. He was able to sneak past the manager who was busy watching television, making a beeline for the room he shared with Junmyeon. 

He opened the door quietly, hoping he would find Junmyeon asleep on Sehun’s bed, snoring lightly, curled up in the position he always slept in. 

Instead, he found Junmyeon sitting on the edge of the bed, his phone in his hand. He looked up when Sehun entered. 

“You’re home,” Junmyeon said, eyes raking down Sehun’s form. 

“Hmm.” Sehun shucked his jacket off his shoulders and tossed it on the pile of clothes atop Junmyeon’s bed. He moved to peel his t-shirt off next. He could feel Junmyeon’s eyes on him, knew that he was watching him. 

“You were drinking.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.” He tossed the t-shirt on the bed. 

“You have lipstick on your neck.”

Sehun moved his hand to his neck, instinctually feeling the skin there. 

“Sehun-ah, you shouldn’t––” Junmyeon let his words die. 

Sehun turned, fixing Junmyeon with an I-dare-you stare. “I shouldn’t what?”

Junmyeon sighed and shook his head, looking away. “I assume it won’t happen again since we rarely ever have free time anyway.” He looked back at Sehun. “Don’t get distracted, Sehun-ah. Don’t throw everything away before it’s really begun.”

Sehun chewed his bottom lip, responding in his mind with a biting comeback of  _ “So what if I went drinking. I’m not going to jeopardize anything. I wasn’t at a club. I wasn’t in public. Hey, I should get to have fun too _ ,” but what came out was, “Yes, Hyung.”

“Go wash up and then come to bed,” Junmyeon said, setting his phone down and rolling on to his back on the bed. “I missed you.”

Sehun walked towards the door, grabbing a towel on his way.  _ I missed you too, Junmyeon. If only it had been you.  _

  
  
  


Sehun woke up with a start. Sunlight was beginning to filter into the bedroom through the sliver of window that wasn’t covered by heavy drapes. It landed on the bed, highlighting a long strip of the blanket. 

Sehun blinked, noting that his limbs felt heavy. He tried to sit up but was met with resistance, which confused him initially. He squinted and looked around to find the source of his troubles. Then he realized Kim Junmyeon was wrapped around him like a koala, his head on Sehun’s shoulder, leg thrown over his thigh, his arm resting on Sehun’s middle. His chest was rising and falling, he was still asleep. 

Sehun pushed him off, Junmyeon rolling onto his back with a groan. 

“Sehun?” Junmyeon asked groggily. 

“I told you not to cuddle me, Hyung,” Sehun admonished, maneuvering to a seated position. He stretched his arms overhead, arching his back to work out the stiffness. He did a quick glance down to make sure he wasn’t sporting morning wood, afraid that his body betrayed him while he was sleeping. 

“But I love you,” Junmyeon said matter-of-factly, sitting up and rubbing his face.

Sehun looked over his shoulder. “Like a brother,” Sehun said before he realized the words were leaving his mouth.  _ Shit. _ He had sounded bitter, he knew it. 

Junmyeon blinked at him, neither looking away. Sehun felt a sudden rush of anxiety like he should run away instead of staying to find out how Junmyeon responded. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear anything at that moment, especially if it was Junmyeon agreeing with him and turning him down in the process. 

He had avoided being flat out rejected in the last ten plus years. He wasn’t sure he could handle if Junmyeon said it now, or if a decade of fondness, of longing, of beating himself up over liking the wrong guy, could end in a bedroom at a Taiwanese resort, a film crew setting up outside their room to capture the aftermath. No, it was supposed to end with Sehun getting over Junmyeon, not being turned down. 

“No, not anymore,” Junmyeon said slowly. 

Sehun wasn’t sure he was hearing him correctly. “What did you say?” 

“N-not like a brother. Not anymore,” Junmyeon repeated. It was said too simply, too honestly, to be a confession. Or at least that is what Sehun quickly decided. Not like a brother, like a close friend, his best friend –– Junmyeon would say that next, without a doubt. 

“But not like how you felt about Minho,” Sehun muttered, already having lost a good deal of common sense via Junmyeon’s  _ not-like-a-brother _ .

“What?” Junmyeon asked. “Minho?”

Sehun felt his heart thud in his chest and then whatever the moment could have become disappeared with a loud knock on the bedroom door. 

“Come in,” Sehun yelled, needing to not be alone with Junmyeon before the moment turned ugly, leaving his emotions in shreds.

One of their managers poked his head into the room, then stepped inside. “They want to start filming in five minutes. You guys are the last up, so hurry.”

Junmyeon sat up, dragging his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Okay.”

Sehun stood, internally cursing the timing of whatever that was. 

The manager hung around as they hurried to get ready, talking to Junmyeon about a detail in the filming that he had questioned. Sehun was glad for it, needing time to think, time without Junmyeon. 

  
  


Twenty minutes later, Sehun was standing on the lawn by the pool, attempting to complete the morning mission. When Junmyeon sidled up to him and offered him a smile, Sehun smiled back, a peace treaty of sorts.  _ We have to film so let’s just do this _ .  

After the morning mission, the team split into two, Chanyeol and Jongdae leaving for an action-packed day at the beach, while the rest of the group spent the day indulging in more lowkey activities. 

Kim Junmyeon happened to be in the same group as Sehun because fate was simultaneously an evil and blessed thing, much like Kim Junmyeon himself. He was quick to hold hands with Sehun when they were leaving their villa, heading to an aquarium. He slipped his hand into Sehun’s larger one, squeezing it tightly and smiling up at the younger man. 

Sehun felt a lump form in his throat. He regretted bringing up Minho or trying to pry something from Junmyeon when he was not ready to hear it. Now there was a mess of unanswered question on the periphery of their interactions, questions that they wouldn’t be able to answer anytime soon. It made Sehun jumpy, anxious, things he shouldn’t be in front of a camera. 

He hoped he did an excellent job reacting to the jokes Junmyeon shared with him, leaning in to laugh. He hoped his jokes back seemed lighthearted, because he was trying his damndest to mask all of the turmoil with humor.  He hoped that the hand holding and the affectionate smiles looked friendly. He hoped none of his inner turmoil showed up on camera, because it was neither the time nor the place for it. 

  
  


“You cost me five hundred thousand won,” Minseok tutted. His hair was wet, bangs plastered to his forehead thanks to a raucous game of pseudo-volleyball and pushing played in the hot springs. 

Sehun looked up from his ramyun, water dripping down his nose and landing next to the bright red noodle container. “No, you lost five hundred thousand won betting on the impossible.” _ Maybe impossible. Maybe.  _

The cameras were off after a long afternoon of filming. They had just finished negotiating their way into snacks, eating a bit more than they had technically purchased once the film was stopped and they whined to their manager. Sehun was proud of himself for getting through the day intact, laughing and smiling, joking with the other guys like he didn’t have a care in the world. 

“He’s staring at you right now, you know,” Minseok pointed out before shoveling another mouthful of noodles in. 

Sehun instinctively turned his head to look, meeting Kim Junmyeon’s gaze. Junmyeon was staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. When he noticed Sehun looking, he looked away. 

“No, he’s not,” Sehun said. “Not anymore,” he added in a low voice. 

A production assistant walked up to the table, a piece of paper in her hand. “We’ll be wrapping soon, so you guys can go shower and get ready for the next shoot.”

Minseok nodded. Once the assistant had walked away, he continued, “Seriously, you know he pretty much confessed he likes you. I wasn’t going to tell you because friend-code and all that, but if Junmyeon is drunk and you’re not around, he isn’t shy about talking about your perfect ass and how much he misses sleeping by you and how he is in love with you, but you’ll never date someone his age–“

“He’s only three years older than me,” Sehun interrupted. 

“Yeah. I know. Seems like he always exaggerates the age gap. Anyway, the point is you guys are annoying us. _ A lot _ . It is sickening to be around you, so please confess between two o’clock and four o’clock today so I can recoup my bet. Double down or nothing.” Minseok stood, reaching over and placed his hand on Sehun’s shoulder. “Good luck. And if you don’t confess I’m going to clean your room at the dorms and throw half of it away, just remember that.”

  
  


The steam was thick in the air, clouding the small shower room, clinging to the dull white glazed tile that hugged the walls. Sehun stepped inside, letting the door slowly shut and lock behind him. Along the far wall were two nozzles, both going full blast. Under one of them was Kim Junmyeon, his hair wet and slicked back. He was still wearing his swim shorts, the blue patterned ones he’d poached from Sehun’s closet eons ago. His eyes were closed, and his head tilted up, the water falling on his face. If he had heard the door open, he didn’t indicate it.

Sehun stopped for a moment to appreciate the sight. Kim Junmyeon was beautiful. He had always been beautiful, which was the problem. 

Junmyeon, this handsome, kind man, liked him? Sehun wouldn’t, couldn’t believe it until he heard it from the man himself. Minseok probably was just trying to recoup his losses. 

Sehun took a deep breath, trying to decide the best course of action. He hadn’t had a single chance to talk to Junmyeon alone since that morning, and he doubted he would find another opportunity before the day was over. They would be rushed back to filming as soon as they were back in their street clothing, with an acceptable amount of makeup caked on their faces and their hair dry enough to style.

But what should he say? Sehun worried his bottom lip, considering. Honestly, he wanted to walk up and put his hands on Junmyeon’s waist, lean in and plant a kiss on his neck. And more. A lot more. 

“Sehun, is that you?” Junmyeon asked, turning to look over his shoulder. 

Sehun nodded dumbly, swallowing down his frustrations.

“Are you going to shower?” Junmyeon quirked an eyebrow at him. “What’s wrong?”

“A lot of things are wrong, Hyung,” Sehun answered. He padded towards the other shower head, tilting his head back once he reached the stream, letting the warm water hit his chest and fall along his torso.

Junmyeon was staring at him, lips set in a tight line. Sehun ignored him, unsure of what else he could say. 

“Is it about this morning?”

“Maybe,” Sehun said, tone biting. As usual, he didn’t know what to say or do, so he floundered, sounding angry when he was terrified. 

Junmyeon reached for the shower handle, shutting off the stream of water. “Look at me.”

Sehun did nothing of the sort. He pointedly ignored him like any mature twenty-five-year-old man would do. “No.”

“Sehun, look at me,” Junmyeon urged, his hand finding Sehun’s forearm. “Please.”

Sehun sighed and turned his head. “What?”

He stared into Kim Junmyeon’s eyes, something he had done countless times before. When they were teenagers, when they were in their twenties. When they were sad or happy or a combination of those things and so much more. Through career highs and lows, through personal turmoil. Through Sehun being stupidly in love with a man he could never have to now entertain the possibility that the feelings were mutual. 

“Why did you mention Minho?” Junmyeon asked.

“I didn’t realize you two dated,” Sehun answered. 

“Who told you we did? Was it Minseok?” Junmyeon frowned. “Why did he tell you about Minho?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Sehun fought against the urge to turn the shower back on, the urge to move away from Junmyeon. He was terrified of where their conversation was going, but deep down, he knew they needed to have it. “I didn’t even know you weren’t straight, Hyung. Apparently I didn’t know about a lot of things. A lot of  _ distractions _ .” The word was spoken with an amount of anger Sehun didn’t mean to let out. 

Junmyeon’s hands fell to his sides, he looked down. “I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should have.” Sehun reached for the shower handle, turning it back on. It could have changed everything if he had known, Sehun thought.

“Distractions...you remember that?”

_ How could I forget?  _ Sehun nodded, gritting his teeth.

“I think I listened to my own advice too well, Sehun-ah. And I think I hurt you in the process.” Junmyeon wet his lips and fidgeted with his hands. “I shouldn’t have let it go this far.”

“Sehun…” Junmyeon continued. Sehun glanced over. He could see the glimmer in Junmyeon’s eyes, the one that said he wanted to cry. It gave Sehun pause, made him afraid to interrupt, afraid to break the moment. “We’ve known each other for a long, long time,” Junmyeon spoke slowly, tone even. The showers continued raining down on the white tile of the room, steam fogging up around them. Junmyeon sucked in a breath. “Sehun, are you interested in anyone?”

Sehun snorted. “What?”

“Are you seeing anyone? Like, um, do you have a girlfriend?” Junmyeon asked. “Or a boyfriend?”

“Depends on why you’re asking.” Sehun swallowed, turning back to face the tile wall he reached for the small bottle of shampoo. He was too afraid to fall apart in front of the man he  didn’t love. 

“Well I-” Junmyeon was still looking, but Sehun wasn’t going to wait for him to spit out his next words. He went about showering, hoping against logic, listening to Junmyeon fumble and backtrack, saying an odd “Um” or “Well” before stuttering and starting all over.

“Hyung, just take a shower,” Sehun spat, coincidentally timing them to the exact moment Junmyeon found the courage to say, “Sehun will you date me?” and the words were so jarring it took Sehun several seconds to fully digest what he had just heard. 

Sehun turned, shampoo sliding down his cheek. “What did you just say?” Sehun asked, his heart thundering in his chest. 

Junmyeon furrowed his brow, looking far too serious, too worried for Sehun’s liking. Kim Junmyeon was natural confidence, but now, now he was a ball of nerves. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Sehun had never imagined Kim Junmyeon would confess to him. He didn’t have a carefully formulated response or a plan on how to react if it happened. He was, quite honestly, struck mute. 

“It’s fine if you don’t want to, if I um, read things wrong, It, I just, you see I’ve thought a lot since we stopped living together and I know, I know you might not-”

“Y- yes,” Sehun blurted out, interrupting Junmyeon’s ramble.

“What?” Junmyeon raised his eyebrows. 

“Date. Yes,” Sehun managed to get out, feeling a rush of euphoria. Kim Junmyeon had just asked him out. Kim Junmyeon, who he most definitely didn’t love, had asked him out.

“Really?” Junmyeon’s voice went up an octave.

“Yeah.” Sehun nodded his head. He had never been surer of something in his life. “Hyung, if I’d known, if I, I would have asked you out before and––“

Junmyeon’s lips moved into that familiar, breath-stopping smile and Sehun thought he might melt from a combination of happiness and sheer attraction to the man next to him. 

A loud bang thundered on the shower room door. 

Jongin’s voice rang out. “What is taking you guys so long? I need to shower!” he yelled. “Are you guys doing something? Baekhyun said you’re probably doing something.”

“We should do something,” Junmyeon said quietly. 

“Hmm.” Sehun agreed. He leaned in, heart thrumming.  _ Kiss _ . He was going to kiss Kim Junmyeon. Something he had thought about dozens of times before. Since he was fifteen years old, checking out the hot trainee who had told him his greeting wasn’t good enough. 

Junmyeon smiled and leaned up and then Sehun was lost to everything but the feel of their lips pressed together. It was too chaste, both men realizing it and parting their lips. 

Sehun licked inside of Junmyeon’s mouth first, his tongue sliding against Junmyeon’s. A breathy moan escaped Junmyeon’s lips, swallowed by the kiss, and damn if Sehun didn’t suddenly want to do a lot, lot more. 

“Guys! We have filming! Open up!” Jongin shouted, palm slapping against the locked door. 

Sehun ignored him, deepening the kiss. When Junmyeon’s hands slid up Sehun’s arms, it started a fire burning in Sehun’s middle. 

Junmyeon was forever the sensible one. He broke the kiss, angling his head and sucking in a breath. “We can’t. Not here.”

“Guys! Guys if you don’t open up I’ll get Manager Hyung!” Jongin continued to yell from outside the door. 

“Then when?” Sehun asked, voice raspy. 

“When we get back to Korea,” Junmyeon said in a low voice. “I promise.”

“Who confessed? Did I win?” Minseok’s voice echoed from the other side of the door. “Damnit Sehun-ah, you better have confessed!”

  
  


**_Two weeks later_ **

 

Sehun had purchased the villa two years prior, but no one was supposed to know it. At least not their fans –– it was part of their image that they lived together, sharing a house and spending every waking moment in each other’s company. The fans weren’t supposed to know that Junmyeon had an apartment either or that most of them spent non-promotional cycles living outside the dorms, in their own places or with their parents. It was only during times they were promoting or practicing that they hunkered down, sharing an apartment and readjusting to life with too many roommates. 

Or, as Junmyeon liked to remind Sehun, _ former  _ roommates (“I still don’t forgive you for kicking me out of our room” “I needed space” “Yeah but still”).

Two weeks after their trip to Taiwan, two weeks post love confession, Sehun was back in his villa, his feet up on a red patterned ottoman, arms flopped down on the red leather of his sofa. It was three in the morning, and he was still up, waiting, doing his best to be patient. 

He drummed his fingers on the leather, staring up at the monochrome clock that hung above the television. His filming for  _ Busted  _ was done, he had a rare break in his otherwise busy schedule–– promotions would start up again for their repackage in a couple weeks; it was a brief moment of rest before the storm returned. He should be using it to catch up on sleep, but instead, he was wide awake, watching the seconds tick by on the ridiculous oversized clock the interior decorators had talked him into. 

“I’m in love with Kim Junmyeon,” he sing-songed, moving his feet idly back and forth to his words. “I’m in love with Kim Junmyeon.”

“Kim Junmyeon is in love with me,” Sehun changed his tune, feet wiggling, the corner of his lips upturning at his new reality. “Kim Junmyeon loves me,” he tested out, smiling widely. 

“Kim Junmyeon is going to spontaneously combust if we don’t get naked A-S-A-P.”

Sehun startled, eyes darting to the entrance to his living room. Junmyeon was standing there, dressed in one of the dorky bucket hats he favored, a striped shirt and loose jeans on. He looked decidedly unfashionable, but to Sehun he looked amazing. Also, he really needed to change his door code if he planned on waxing about his love life while alone.

“When did–-”

“I told them I couldn’t stay any longer, I have plans,” Junmyeon explained, padding towards the sofa. He had been at a class reunion, one that was expected to go until the early hours of the morning. In fact, Sehun hadn’t been convinced Junmyeon wouldn’t show up half drunk from the get-together, but he was willing to take his chances. It was the first time in two weeks that they had even a small possibility of finding a day where alone time was a possibility and knowing their schedules, they probably wouldn’t find another time that would work for the next month. Dating, Sehun found out, was a lot of stolen moments, kisses in the practice room and cuddles in the dorms. 

Junmyeon’s fingers were already on the buttons of his shirt, pressing the top two out of the holes before he reached the sofa. 

Sehun felt his chest tighten, excitement, anticipation, began to buzz under his skin. He let his feet fall to the floor, trying to sit up straight, to maybe stand, to do something - anything that resulted in touching Kim Junmyeon as fast as possible. 

Junmyeon was fast, his hands going to Sehun’s broad shoulders and pressing him back into the sofa, climbing onto his lap. Sehun could barely register that Junmyeon was on top of him before they were kissing. Junmyeon licked along the seam of Sehun’s mouth and the younger man was only too happy to part his lips, giving Junmyeon entrance.

They had kissed dozens of times, maybe hundreds over the last two weeks. They might not have had time to do more than kissing, but they seized every free second they had encountered in the preceding fourteen days for what they  _ could  _ undertake. Not one had been the same; sometimes it was languid kisses, slow and tender, and then sometimes the fast, hot, torturous drag that worked them both up, leaving Sehun sporting an erection at the worst of times.

Unfortunately timed erections or not, Sehun wasn’t going to stop pressing kisses down the column of Junmyeon’s throat until he was begging for more, knowing full well he couldn’t get it. In turn, Junmyeon licked inside of Sehun’s mouth in the small waiting room in the basement of their agency, alone for five minutes and knowing just what they wanted to do with their precious alone time. 

Sehun had felt driven towards the edge multiple times, and multiple times he had done the same to Junmyeon, palming his pert ass while they kissed, whispering just how much he wanted to do other things in between licking along his collarbone then sucking a mark near the base of his neck. And now, finally, they would be alone. 

Weeks of pent up sexual frustration –– no, a decade of it, spilled over, Junmyeon’s fingers carded into Sehun’s hair, nails raking at his scalp while he angled his head to deepen the kiss. Sehun’s hands were quick to slide from Junmyeon’s waist to his ass, squeezing, while Sehun’s tongue pushed against the roof of Junmyeon’s mouth, their lips slotted together. 

Junmyeon rolled his hips, their lips disengaging for a brief second so they could catch their breaths. Sehun didn’t wait long before he chased Junmyeon’s lips with his own, sucking Junmyeon’s bottom lip into his mouth. Junmyeon tasted like breath mints and smelled like the expensive cologne Sehun had learned to love. It was the same scent that Junmyeon used to leave on their shared bed, the scent heavy on the thick quilt they shared. Junmyeon would splash some on before they fell into bed to cuddle every night. A wave of fondness, of warm memories, of unbridled affection, flooded back. 

Sehun let Junmyeon’s hands, his mouth, rewrite the bad memories - the times when Sehun was eaten up by frustration and longing, convinced he could never have the one man he loved more than anything else. Each press of Junmyeon’s lips, each sting of Junmyeon’s nails skittering on his skin, replaced a past heartache, giving Sehun a sense of victory to tinge his desire. In the last two weeks, things had become more evident, Junmyeon had liked Sehun for a long time. Clarity, however, bore frustration that it had taken so long –– they had so much lost time to make up for. 

Junmyeon tugged at Sehun’s shirt, his lips moving to mouth along Sehun’s jaw. Sehun could feel his dick getting hard with each roll of Junmyeon’s hips.

“Want you in me,” Junmyeon moaned, pushing Sehun’s t-shirt up to reveal the expanse of his torso. “Fuck me.”

Sehun moved, helping Junmyeon drag the shirt off of his middle, and up over his head. Once the obtrusive garment was thrown onto the floor, Sehun began his own mission, trying to remove Junmyeon’s without tearing the striped dress shirt in half. 

Sehun wanted to see all of Kim Junmyeon. Even if he had seen him naked plenty of times before, this was different. This time he could touch, he could taste. He wanted to explore every inch of Junmyeon, map his skin with his tongue, trace every part of him with the pads of his fingers until he knew Junmyeon’s body better than his own. 

Finally, the shirt was open. Sehun pressed the fabric back, revealing the toned, well-defined muscles of Junmyeon’s abdomen and chest. Junmyeon sucked in a breath; the sound came out like a low gasp that went straight to Sehun’s dick. 

“Hyung,” Sehun purred, smoothing his hands along the ridges of Junmyeon’s abdomen, up to his chest. He palmed at Junmyeon’s erect nipples, finding satisfaction in the way Junmyeon rolled his hips and bit his bottom lip when Sehun tweaked one of the buds between his fingers. 

“Do you like that?” Sehun asked, in a low voice, palming at Junmyeon’s chest. 

“I- yeah,” Junmyeon answered. His cock was straining against the front of his jeans, and each time he bucked his hips it met Sehun’s erection, causing a drag of pleasure for both of them. 

Sehun leaned in, closing his mouth around one of the pert buds. He tongued it before sucking, lips closing over the pale flesh of Junmyeon’s chest. 

Junmyeon keened, hands carding into Sehun’s hair and urging him forward. Sehun lost himself in the task at hand, suck, tonguing, and palming along the sensitive area, his desire growing with each of the fetching little moans that left Junmyeon’s lips at the stimulation. 

“Feels so good,” Junmyeon hummed. 

Sehun moved his hand lower, smoothing it around Junmyeon’s side, to his back, and then slipping it between the older man’s boxers to squeeze his ass. 

Junmyeon moved into the touch, bucking his hips, his fingers pressing tiny crescents into the skin of Sehun’s shoulders. 

Sehun marveled at having Junmyeon on his lap, chest exposed, nipples pink and puffy. He marveled at the eroticism of Junmyeon’s hard cock straining against his jeans, back arching while he pressed into Sehun, silently asking for more. 

Sehun had never been so turned on in his life. Countless nights stroking himself, thinking of what it might be like to kiss Junmyeon, to fuck him, could not even begin to compare to having the real thing. 

He wanted all of him,  _ needed all of him _ , and the feeling was mutual. They had waited long enough. 

If their shirts had been an annoying barrier, their pants were suddenly a serious offense, one which they needed to rectify. Junmyeon leaned back first, standing his fingers went to the fly of his jeans. He climbed off Sehun’s lap, undoing the button of his jeans. 

“I want you to fuck me in front of a mirror,” Junmyeon said matter-of-factly like he was talking about one of their schedules or asking Sehun what he had for dinner, not blurting out an apparent kink-slash-command.

Sehun blinked up at him, awkwardly trying to stand then falling back before managing to get up. “What?”

Junmyeon shimmed his jeans over his hips, dragging the fabric lower. HIs cock sprang free, pre-cum glistening at the tip. “Do you own a mirror? Because you should fuck me in front of it. You owe me a wish, remember?”

Sehun stared at him, agape. “I-” His mind flashed back to the mirror that was in his hall, the one that the decorators hung too high. In his frustration, and maybe as a small sign of victory over his past affirmations, he’d taken it down, setting it against the wall in his bedroom - meaning to call up his decorators and have them rehang it. 

Holy shit, was Junmyeon asking what Sehun though he might be asking?

“Bedroom,” he choked out, not believing he was about to fuck Kim Junmyeon in front of the same mirror that had seen him disavow the man countless times before. 

“Good,” Junmyeon smiled. He reached his hand out. “Let’s go.”

  
  


Sehun found Kim Junmyeon beautiful ninety-nine percent of the time. When his brow was furrowed, indicating he was concentrating on something, when he was smiling - that look Kyungsoo and Jongdae said made him look dumb. When he was tired, his mouth contorting into an  _ O _ shape while he tried and failed to stifle a yawn.

But nothing, nothing compared to how beautiful Kim Junmyeon was spread out on Sehun’s bed, his dark hair mussed, bottom lip swollen from kissing. His legs parted, revealing the pink puckered ring of his entrance, his cock hard and flush on his stomach. Pink was blossoming on the inside of his thighs, from the spots where Sehun kissed and sucked, not stopping until he was licking a stripe on Junmyeon’s perineum. 

He was the most beautiful like this, opening wide, urging Sehun to work him open further, to fuck him. Turning his head to look at the mirror that rested against the wall, face flushing pink while he watched himself be breached with Sehun’s fingers. 

Sehun pressed his index finger into Junmyeon’s hole, his finger thickly coated with the lubricant he kept in his nightstand drawer  _ just-in-case _ . 

Sehun watched in awe as Junmyeon seemed to suck him in, his finger breaching Junmyeon’s entrance easily despite not being prepared. Sehun experimentally pressed his finger deeper, using Junmyeon’s moans as a guide to when he was moving right and when he had touched the right spot. 

“I can take more,” Junmyeon husked, toes curling into the mattress. “Sehun-ah,  _ more _ .”

With the next press, Sehun added another digit, his fingers sliding into Junmyeon’s tight passage cautiously. It was Junmyeon who moved his hips like he would sink down on them if he could. 

Sehun lost himself in working Junmyeon open, in the sensation of his fingers surrounded by the hot, tight walls. He smoothed his free hand higher, thumb brushing over Junmyeon’s hip before he circled back to take Junmyeon’s hardness in his fist, stroking it in time to the thrusts of his fingers. 

Junmyeon arched his back, a strangled set of syllables echoing out.

“Do you like this, Hyung?” Sehun teased, knowing full well from his reaction that he did. 

Junmyeon let his bent leg go lax, whining softly. “I’ll come if you keep doing this––”

“You say that like it is a bad thing?” Sehun teased, speeding up his fingers and his hand, ready to let Junmyeon come undone first. Junmyeon wasn’t having any of it. 

He batted Sehun’s hand away from his dick. “Not like this,” he said in a raspy voice. 

Sehun stopped, removing his hand from Junmyeon’s dick he leaned in and pressed a kiss into the inside of Junmyeon’s thigh. “Then how do you want it, Hyung?”

“Bend me over in front of the mirror,” Junmyeon said, biting back a moan as Sehun moved his fingers, the angle finally right, the pads hitting his prostate. 

Sehun pressed his fingers in a few shallow thrusts before he removed them, watching Junmyeon’s hole clench around air the moment he was no longer inside of him. The mirror was on the far wall, but it was large - big enough to show both men on the bed. 

Junmyeon was quick to dictate the position, scooting to the edge of the bed he bent over, his perfect ass sticking out. Lube and precum were wet on his thighs, a shine on top of the marks Sehun had sucked into Junmyeon’s skin. Sehun stared appreciatively before turning his attention to rolling on a condom. And then he put his hand on Junmyeon’s back, sliding along the curve of his spine, appreciating just how beautiful his Hyung was. He palmed Junmyeon’s ass with both hands, opening him up, revealing his entrance. Sehun couldn’t believe he would finally be doing it, that he would be fucking Kim Junmyeon. 

“What’s taking so long?”

Correction: fucking a very needy, bossy Kim Junmyeon. 

Sehun lined himself up, watching as he pressed his dick inside of Junmyeon, the head pressing past the ring of muscles. 

Junmyeon hummed in satisfaction. Once Sehun was fully seated, they both moaned in tandem. It felt amazing to be buried in Junmyeon’s heat, even having been worked open he was still tight. Any possibility that he was perhaps too tight, and that Sehun might hurt him, was relieved when Junmyeon pressed back the moment Sehun pulled out, needy and insistent. 

Sehun drove back in hard, moving his hands to grip Junmyeon’s waist. 

“Mirror,” Junmyeon said, and Sehun could almost swear he was using his leader-voice, the same one he used when he was telling the guys where to stand during an interview. Sehun automatically obeyed, his eyes going from Junmyeon’s ass to the mirror, heat creeping up his chest and into his face when he realized how it looked, what he could  _ see _ . 

Their eyes met in the mirror, Sehun watching as he drove into the man he had loved for almost half of his life. Reflected at him was the way his skin had flushed, the small pink marks that he now also sported, courtesy of Junmyeon’s amazingly skilled tongue and lips. Bruises on his chest, love bites, a place on his arm where Junmyeon had pressed his nails in a little hard. 

And with each thrust they could see each other, he could see the way Junmyeon scrunched up his nose, the way his fingers dug into the mattress, ass jutting out, mouth falling open when Sehun thrust in just-the-right-way. 

It made the experience that much more intense, erotic - something Sehun hadn’t known was possible. The buzz of arousal became an overwhelming flood, Sehun thrusting hard while Junmyeon pressed back, both men losing themselves to the image in the mirror. 

Junmyeon came first, clenching around Sehun’s cock, a strangled noise escaping his lips. Sehun couldn’t hold back even if he wanted to. He finished a moment later, watching in the mirror as he fucked Junmyeon through his orgasm. 

And then they were boneless, fucked out, sated. Sehun pulled out gently, but Junmyeon still whined before flopping onto his back on the bed. Sehun stood and tied off the condom before padding into the bathroom to grab a towel. When he returned to the bedroom, he found Junmyeon curled up, eyes closed. 

“I’ll clean you up, Hyung,” Sehun said softly. 

“Don’t bother,” Junmyeon said, opening his eyes. 

“But-” Sehun started to protest, but Junmyeon shook his head. 

“Sehun, we haven’t been able to have sex for two weeks and probably won’t have time for another month. You really think we’re only going to do it once tonight?”

Sehun swallowed thickly, his dick already twitching back to life. “God, I love you,” he blurted out before thinking how it sounded. 

Junmyeon snorted. “I love you too. And I love your dick, so get back over here.” Junmyeon gestured for Sehun to return to bed, holding his arms open and Sehun was all too happy to comply. 

They ended up having sex in front of the mirror two more times that night, mind-blowing sex that finally left them exhausted as the sun came up.

Sehun was sure that during at least one of those rounds he probably said it, looking into that mirror. 

Maybe he had even said it twice. 

“I love Kim Junmyeon.”

He honestly couldn’t remember if Junmyeon had laughed at it or moaned, lost in their shared pleasure. It honestly didn’t matter, because he would be saying it a lot here on out. 

“I love Kim Junmyeon,” Sehun whispered around six in the morning, ready to drift off to sleep with Kim Junmyeon, his boyfriend, in his arms.


End file.
